Mistletoe Madness
by GleeCrosse2134
Summary: Draco Malfoy comes up with a plan to get Harry Potter under an enchanted mistletoe - compliments of George Weasley - to satisfy his suddenly insatiable need for the raven haired boy. Two part. Drarry.


**A/N: Ok so I came up with this on the spot to hopefully make everyone happier with me because I haven't been updating for what I hoped would be two weeks but since have lost count. It's Drarry (obviously) and I hope you like it! By the way, this is part one of a two part. I may not update it for about three days, because tomorrow I am flying to Brisbane to see _Rocky Horror. _YAY!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Harry Potter _(that belongs to the absolutely brilliant J.K. Rowling) or anything you may recognise.**

Professor McGonagall stood up and raised her hands for silence. Everyone in the hall immediately complied, wary of her wrath and not wishing to experience it first thing in the morning.

'I would like to introduce a very special guest; he is an alumni of this school, Gryffindor house,' She said this with a grimace, but everyone could see the pride she was trying to hide. 'And along with his brother – whom we all miss dearly,' At this point McGonagall's expression became very sad, but she shook her head and collected herself. _Get yourself together, Minerva, you can't break down in front of your students._

'Were the cause of many years of grief and frustration, but also of merriment, happiness, hope and... fun.' The students eyes widened. Was hard old McGonagall actually going soft over two students? She cleared her throat, as whispers had broken out over the Great Hall, and once again silence fell. 'I would now like to welcome George Weasley, owner of Weasley's Wizardly Wheezes.'

All the students gathered in the Great Hall clapped as George entered rather dramatically – even the Slytherins, as he had provided them with many a tool to prank the Gryffindors – but no-one louder than Harry, Hermione and Ron. They were on their feet, clapping and cheering and whooping.

George bowed to all five tables while standing in the middle of the hall, before – like McGonagall – raising his hands in a motion for silence.

'Thank you, thank you. I appreciate your applause, for I am quite amazing, I know, but now is not the time for talking about me and my – holiness. Geddit?' No one laughed. 'No? Damn. I've used that joke for over a year and still no-one laughs.' George mumbled so only those closest to him could hear. They giggled, and George rolled his eyes. 'Anyway, no. Now is not the time for that.'

George started to walk again without further explanation, and at this point everyone was regarding him warily. He finally stopped near the Head table, and raised his wand to the ceiling. A mistletoe started to grow.

'Just before this assembly, I was roaming the castle. Why? I was decorating it. Your beautiful headmistress asked me to put up the Christmas decorations and to add my own touch to them this year, to bring some _fun _into this years Christmas; a little more spunk than the previous years for... a couple of reasons.'

As he said this he eyed the '8th' years, as they were called now. His eyes swept over Harry, Ron and Hermione, who all gave him small smiles – if Ron's grin could be classified as small – and the other students, including one Draco Malfoy. George gave Draco a small nod, which Draco returned stiffly, before returning to his cheerful state and continuing his speech.

'Anyway, I put up the usual: holly, tinsel, Santa Claus'– Muggle legend, thought it'd be interesting – fairy lights, you know, the sort – of course all with certain..._ modifications_. But the one you should be wary of is the mistletoe. I placed a restraining charm on them, and the only way you can get out from underneath them is to kiss the other person who gets caught under one with you. Would someone like to come up and help me demonstrate?'

George grinned wolfishly at the older girls, and just as one was about to stand McGonagall's voice rang out clearly through the room. 'I think that is enough now, Mr Weasley.' She fixed him with an amused but firm glare, and he sighed and headed up to the extra seat on the table next to Hagrid.

They were immediately immersed in conversation surrounding Fanged Frisbee's, as Hagrid wanted to see if they were strong enough for the Thestral foals to play with without being ripped to shreds by their sharp teeth, and George was explaining what they were made out of and speaking in detail of the tests he and Fred had put them through.

'So, Harry... what do you make of the enchanted mistletoe?' Hermione whispered to Harry. 'Normally I would say _Finite Incantatem _would do the trick, or a simple releasing charm, but this is George we're talking about. He would have thought of that, he's too smart not to have.'

While Hermione pondered the possible spells that could undo George's charm, Harry directed his gaze to a certain white-blonde sitting inconspicuously across the room from him.

After the war had ended, Draco had been... quieter, nicer, less Death Eater-y could all describe him. He was more subdued, and this had obviously caused Harry to notice him more. He no longer felt a burning hatred for the boy; he pitied him. Being dragged into the whole Death Eater business by his parents, or more precisely his father – his mother had shown that she didn't care for Voldemort, she just wanted her son to be safe – and being forced to do something no teenager should ever have to do, Harry felt sorry for Draco.

He also felt admiration at he way that even though he clearly hadn't wanted to kill Dumbledore, and if he hadn't been interrupted by those Death Eaters would have definitely accepted Dumbledore's offer, Draco had still gone through with Voldemorts mission, if only to save his family.

No, Harry didn't hate Draco (the fact that he was referring to him as Draco and not _Malfoy _should say enough), and the past few months had given him time to look at Draco; really look without any of his former prejudice. And when he looked, and what he saw...

Draco was gorgeous.

Not gorgeous in the sense of the word that is thrown around to describe anything that is pretty, but actually bloody gorgeous as in the most gorgeous thing Harry had ever laid eyes on.

His white-blonde hair complimented his pale skin – not deathly pale, or sickly pale, but a beautiful porcelain colour with a rosy tint. His grey eyes; once cloudy and dull with exhaustion and stress, were now silver and clear, with a spark in them that Harry hadn't seen since 4th year. Draco's long, lean form understated his toned body, but Harry knew it existed – even if he only knew because in the middle of a potions lesson Ron had 'accidentally' sent a splatter of Burning Brew in Draco's direction causing him to rip his shirt off in order to prevent his skin from being burnt off, and thereby exposing his chest to Harry's inspection.

Draco had lightly toned arms and stomach, probably from playing Quidditch, which Harry could tell would be firm and feel extremely nice under his hands... Harry closed his eyes and imagined such a scene before snapping them open again, not wishing to develop a little problem right in the middle of hundreds of people.

Yes, Draco Malfoy was bloody gorgeous. But that didn't solve Harry's problem. Harry's problem was that there was no guarantee that a) Draco was gay, b) Draco was interested in Harry, or c) that Harry was even going to be able to get Draco under one of those marvellous mistletoes. Even with Ron and Hermione's help – they knew he preferred blokes, but they didn't know that he preferred _one _guy over all the rest, and it would be awkward to explain to them that that guy happened to be in Slytherin, and also happened to have been their arch nemesis for most of their Hogwarts years.

Harry sighed, taking his gaze off Draco and banging his head on the table, only realising too late that there was a custard danish on his plate.

While Hermione got to work cleaning him up, Harry's mind turned back to Draco Malfoy who, unbeknownst to him, was having the same problem.

****ooOOoo****

'Why,' Draco says simply to his best friend, Blaise. 'Why, of all the eligible hot guys at this school, why, did the universe see it fit to make me want _him. _Harry Potter. Why? Why did it have to be the Chosen One, the Golden Boy, the one who will undoubtedly marry Weaslette, who would never even dream of being gay, or being gay with me. Draco Malfoy. Why?' He repeated, looking pleadingly at Blaise for an answer.

'Because the universe hates you.'

Draco hmphed, before he turned his gaze to his eggs and glared at them, as if they were the cause of his troubles.

'Look, Draco,' Started his other best friend, Pansy. After the events of the year before, Goyle had decided to leave the school, thus leaving him without his two henchmen. Luckily for him, though, Pansy and Blaise took him under their wing, and the three of them had quickly become inseparable, much closer than Draco had ever been to Goyle and Crabbe. Goyle had offered to write to him, but then the ministry had gotten on his fathers case and they had been forced to cut off all contact with the outside world, so Draco had no idea what was going in Goyle's life. 'We have no idea why you have a crush on Potter, but being the loyal best friends we are –' At this Blaise rolled his eyes and snorted, causing Pansy to bewitch the bacon he was trying to eat to wrap itself around his fingers and stop him from being able to eat it without biting his fingers off. '– we came up with a plan.'

Draco raised his eyebrows at this.

'Go on.'

'Well, you heard about the enchanted mistletoe that the red-head has placed around the castle...'

**Reviews are highly appreciated, thank you!**


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